“We are all alone and I was singing this song to you,” he mouthed.
* * *
Jaime walked around the nursery with its shades of grays and blues, touching items as she looked forward to one day laying eyes on her child. For her, the room was her greatest work. There was nothing but love in every detail.
The dark gray crib was flanked by gray velvet curtains with a tiny blue pinstripe. Sheer blue curtains would allow in light while the heavier curtains would shield the baby from cold during the winter seasons. The polished wood floors were covered with a large and plush gray area rug and on the largest wall was an animated mural of animals in shades of blues, grays, and bright white against the pale gray wallpaper. Wooden shelves lined with toys. Frames ready for the dozens of pictures she would take. A small working section in the corner for the nights she worked while she watched over her baby.
All of it with the baby’s safety and comfort in mind. “Are you excited about being a mom?”
She glanced over at where he leaned in the doorway with his hands in his pockets as he watched her. “More than anything,” she admitted as she picked up the blue version of the same teddy bear she had as a child. It took her weeks and quite a bit of money to purchase the item that was now a vintage collectible. “I started off fucking up, but I am determined to do better, have better, do more, and be more for him.”
Jaime stood before a charcoal gray slider with thin blue pinstripes and a large matching blue pillow that she wanted to monogram. She bit her lip to keep from asking Graham what he would name him, knowing that was cruel. They had to be done with hurting each other. If not for the child they may share, then to rectify their long history.
“I’m glad we’re trying to mend things. I know it doesn’t mean we’ll get back together. I’m clear on that, but I would never want you to be my enemy, and I hope that you want the same,” she said. “For twelve out of the last seventeen years of my life, you were in it in some way. And if I count the days you were in my thoughts and my heart for the last five, then those years count too, Graham.”
His eyes were on her steadily.
“Seventeen years is a long time, whether we knew what we felt or not. Whether we knew what to do with it or not. Whether it looked wrong or not,” Jaime said passionately, her eyes bright with tears. “Forgive me, Graham. Forgive me. Please.”
“Jaime,” he said with a shake of his head. He directed his gaze down at the floor as if looking at her was too much.
“Graham,” she implored with emotion.
“I might have a child on the way, and you weren’t going to tell me,” he yelled before he took a step back and released a harsh breath.
Jaime gasped and covered her face with her hands at his release of unbridled anger at her.
“I’m tired of you making me feel like I ain’t good enough. Like you never can choose me,” he said, tempering his words. “First it was your friends and what they think of me. Then it was your fiancé and what you imagined happy looked like for you . . . with him. But that’s the shit. You keep choosing men you end up cheating on . . . with me. Always second string for you. Cool. But with me possibly being a father you still don’t choose me, Jaime. I still don’t measure up to the father of your child?”
Her insides felt as if they died with his words. What was she to say when faced with the truth? What could she say when “forgive me” was worn out and overused? What could she do but accept that she was dealt a hand and played the wrong card?
* * *
Graham lay on the couch with the darkness of Jaime’s living room broken up by the lit embers of the fireplace. The weather had taken a turn into a blizzard, visibility was low, and the streets were not year cleared of the inches of heavy snowfall. He wanted to let their emotional scene in the nursery fuel his journey back to Brooklyn but accepted that maybe it was not safe to make the trek home just yet.
With his hand behind his head, he looked at his sketch of her again and was unable to take his eyes off of it or to shake the awareness that in every stroke was his love and longing for her. It was why he sent it to her and out of his life, hoping he would be freed of her as well.
He’d been wrong.
It truly was a raw and beautiful piece of artwork. Worthy of one of his exhibits but not meant for public consumption. It exposed more about him than perhaps any other piece he’d ever done.
I love her.
We love each other.
He forced his gaze from the sketch, wishing he could find the sleep that Jaime had in her bedroom. He tossed back the throw she gave him and sat up on the sofa. He looked around the room. His eyes landed on a flash of red on the built-in shelves. Curious, he rose and walked over to find a small toy car in front of a photo of her behind the wheel of a racecar.
She did it!
He smiled remembering how he helped her to pull that childhood memory from wherever she had placed it during her adulthood. He liked that she had not forgotten the dreams of her childhood. He liked it a lot, knowing he played a role in it.
He placed the car back on the shelf and made his way to the half-bath in the hall. He turned the light on and relieved himself with a long sigh. After he washed his hands, he cut the light and closed the door behind him. Down the hall, Jaime’s door was closed. He turned and walked to it.
Her tears were muffled but he heard them. Was affected by them. He knew the words they had exchanged bothered her. The fire of his anger had singed her emotionally. The betrayal he felt had been his truth, but it didn’t lessen the effect on her or his innate desire to shelter and protect her and the baby—even from his own words and actions. He turned the knob and opened the door.
The sounds of her cries increased with that move. She was on her side in the middle of the king-sized bed that seemed more pillows than anything. Her body was racked with tears.
Damn.
He felt a sharpness radiate across his chest and squeeze his heart as he crossed the hardwood floors. “Jaime,” he said before he neared her.
She dug her face deeper into the mound of pillows as she swiped away her tears with the side of her hand. “Something wrong?” she asked, her voice shaky.
Graham climbed on the bed and crossed it on his knees to reach her. “Stop crying, Jaime. Think of the baby,” he soothed her as he spooned his body to hers and pressed kisses to the back of her head. “It’s okay. I don’t hate you, I promise. I told you that no matter what happens between us I will always love you and I meant it.”
And he did.
She nodded and snuggled back against him. He held her into the wee hours of the morning until her soft snores came. Soon he joined her.
* * *
That next morning Jaime awakened to find Graham gone from her bed. For a second, she wondered if she had dreamed about him, but the scent of him still clung to her pillow and sheets. She flung the covers back to cross the room and look out the window. Some of the streets were already cleared and the winter sun beamed brightly.
She turned to find Graham and noticed the tray on the suede bench at the foot of her bed. On it was fresh fruit, yogurt, a bagel, and a glass of juice. She picked up the folded piece of paper to find a small sketch of her sleeping. Inside he wrote:
Headed home. It’s safe. Don’t worry. Thank you for the talk last night. We needed it.
Graham
Not: Love, Graham. Still, she cherished it. He must have gone to the store because none of the items had been in her fridge. The act was more of a show of love than words could ever be. And the small sketch was adorable.
She took a sip of the juice. It was icy cold although it was free of ice.
He couldn’t have left that long ago.
“Graham!” she gasped, taking off out of her bedroom and down the hall that seemed longer than usual. She reached the front door and lifted the latch before she jerked it open.
He was striding down the middle of the hall.
“Graham,” she called, thankful it was empty of
her neighbors.
He turned and her heart skipped as if she hadn’t just spent the last twelve hours with him.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” he explained.
Jaime remained in the doorway, fearful she would lock herself out of her apartment in her emerald green slip. In her rush, she’d forgotten the matching robe.
“Did you love him? Luc?” Graham asked, surprising her and revealing that it was the first thought on his mind.
“Not the way I loved you,” she admitted with every bit of her heart. Truthfully.
Please believe me.
Graham’s eyes became distant. He raised his glove to wave goodbye as he turned to walk down the hall.
“Graham,” she called from the doorway once more.
Again, he stopped and turned.
“I need you to know that what happened between us in Grenada was not just sex,” she said. “Sex is just the physical side of it. That was love. Even in my anger for you, I couldn’t deny myself. That was love. I didn’t realize it then, but I know it now. I hope you believe that.”
Graham nodded. “I do. I’m just glad you finally know it,” he said before he turned and walked away.
Chapter 15
Jaime’s thoughts were still on the night she shared with Graham for the rest of the day. She felt hopeful that they could fill the gap between them. She was determined to fight to show him that she regretted her choices. And she allowed herself to dream that after the baby was born—regardless of paternity—that she and Graham could build something together.
Maybe. Maybe not.
Still, she was optimistic.
Bzzzzzz.
Jaime leaned forward to press the intercom. “Yes, Katie,” she said, crossing her ankles in the tight satin pencil skirt she paired with a matching button-up shirt that she had worn untucked to make room for the baby.
“Ms. Virginia Osten-Pine is here to see you.”
Another drop-in?
“Send her in,” Jaime said removing her compact to check her appearance. She thought twice about it and snapped it closed to drop back in her leopard-print tote without using it.
I’m pregnant. Had a long emotional night. And it has been a busy morning of work. Who gives a shit if I’m not picture-perfect?
Jaime rose as her mother entered the office. She came around the desk to meet her with a brief hug and kiss on her cheek. “You really are getting around these days, Mother,” she said as she moved to reclaim her seat behind the desk.
“And how are you not scared of those high heels in your condition?” Virginia said before setting her tote on the edge of Jaime’s desk and taking one of the seats positioned before her spacious desk.
“I could dance in heels, Mother. I’m fine,” she said, picking up her phone to check for incoming emails.
“I want you to know I recognize when you do that,” Virginia said.
Jaime set the phone face down to look over at her. “Do what?”
Virginia studied her nails nonchalantly. “Switch up between Mama and Mother depending on what I say,” she said.
Jaime pretended to focus on her computer. “I do that?” she asked with feigned ignorance.
Her mother chuckled. “I know my child just like one day you will know yours,” she advised.
“Care to share what you are doing out and about in the city alone?” Jaime asked.
“I owe you an apology and I wanted to do it in person.”
Jaime’s eyes widened as she leaned to the left past her twenty-seven-inch desktop computer to look at her mother. “Say what now?” she asked.
“That young man—”
“Graham,” Jaime provided.
Virginia nodded as she smoothed her silvery strands back into the low chignon style she wore that day. “Seeing Graham reminded me that I was so angry at you that I called you some horrible names after I first learned that you cheated on Eric,” she began.
Slut. Whore.
“I remember,” Jaime said, still pained at the words shot at her like daggers.
“Now that the truth about your father’s . . . dalliance . . . is out, I can admit I was still hurting about what he was doing to me. My anger at him was behind the anger I felt at you,” Virginia confessed.
Jaime leaned back in her chair and eyed her mother with incredulity.
“I said to you the things I wanted to say to him, and I was wrong, Jaime,” she said, twisting her precious diamond rings around on her slender finger before she reached for her purse and withdrew a folded monogrammed handkerchief—a relic in current times—to dab at her tears.
Jaime pushed back in her chair to come around the desk and pull her mother’s body to her side.
“Don’t ruin my hair, Jaime,” Virginia said around her sniffles.
Jaime stiffened. Some old habits were hard to break. “Of course, Mother,” she said as she patted her shoulder instead.
It was Virginia’s turn to go rigid. “I am who I am, Jaime,” she said. “And that’s all I’ve known for sixty years.”
“I’m learning that it’s never too late to change,” Jaime said, determined to change her own patterns to choose her happiness and speak the truth on what she wanted without hurting someone else in the process.
Although Luc’s Instagram stories were proving to be quite adventurous, with a bevy of beauties always at his side, Jaime knew it was all a mask for the hurt she caused. And then with the same sinful deed, she wrecked Graham as well. “You just decide to change. Get up every day and focus on not messing up in the same way again no matter how many times you’ve done it before,” she said, thinking of both men.
The one she loved and the one she was in love with.
“You seemed to have inherited that from your father,” Virginia said, sliding in one of her beloved critiques.
Jaime sighed. “Thanks for the apology and the judgment, Mother,” she said as she moved over to the small fridge to remove two bottles of mineral water.
“What judgment? Your father is a cheater and you’ve done it twice—that I know of—”
Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.
Jaime handed a bottle to her mother before she reached to pick up her cell phone. “Jaime Pine,” she said as she leaned against the edge of her desk and crossed one ankle over the other.
Virginia frowned in distaste as she eyed the drink. “Straight out of the bottle. I refuse,” she said, setting it on the desk.
“Hey, Hamilton. What’s up?” she asked her youngest design consultant.
“Madison says we left behind the custom name art,” he said.
Jaime pinched her forehead. “Y’all are at the Cobble Hill redesign. Right? So that would have been a delivery from RMW,” she said, thinking of the metal fabrication company they used for such projects.
“Yes.”
“Let me have someone check the warehouse and I’ll call you back,” Jaime said, setting the phone down and then moving around the desk to press the intercom.
She frowned a bit to see her mother watching her so intently. So curiously. “Katie, can you have someone see if there is a delivery box from RMW downstairs?” she asked as her mother opened her tote to remove her eyeglass case as she came around to the rear of the desk as well.
“Hold on, let me check the inventory list first,” Katie said.
“Mother, what are you doing?” Jaime asked as she sat behind her desk.
“Seeing you on top of things around here,” Virginia said with her back arched as she clutched the edge of her desk to roll the chair forward.
“Okay, Jaime. It was logged into inventory. Matter of fact you signed for it two weeks ago, so it arrived,” Katie assured her.
“Then I need someone to check downstairs,” she said succinctly.
Virginia leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other, looking pleased with herself as she eyed Jaime.
“Remember you have a team in Cobble Hill, another in Harlem, and the delivery guys are on lunch before that big
haul to the beach house in Montauk, Jaime. I don’t think anyone else is here but me and you,” Katie said.
“Okay, I’ll check,” Jaime said, before ending the call.
“You have three teams working under you?” Virginia asked over the rim of the red tortoise eyeglasses she now wore.
“Yes, Mother,” she said as she searched under the paperwork and house plans on her desk for her set of work keys.
“You’ve come a long way, huh?” Virginia said, looking around as if for the first time.
“Yes, Mother,” Jaime said, with her phone and keys in hand. “Stay here. Touch nothing. We’ll go to a late lunch after I get a messenger to take this package—once I find it.”
Jaime left her office and quickly strode down the hall. “Be right back,” she told Katie.
As she punched the button for the elevator, Jaime was rethinking the workload she took on as of late. She was in full grind mode, using it to distract her from thoughts and regrets of her actions with both Graham and Luc. But it was wearing on her. As soon as she stepped on, she leaned back against the rear wall and closed her eyes. She was just into her second trimester and the boost of energy she was supposed to feel had yet to appear.
Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.
Jaime didn’t bother to look at the phone yet. The service in the elevator was abysmal. Instead, she thought back to dancing with Graham as Donny Hathaway’s music serenaded them. She hummed “A Song for You,” remembering her head pressed to Graham’s chest as his heart pounded with such force and speed. Just like her own.
On the basement level, she stepped off and checked the missed call before calling Hamilton back. “Did y’all find it?” she asked even as she continued long strides down the brightly lit wide path flanked by gated storage units.
“Yes, someone put the box on the passenger seat,” he said.
Jaime stopped, feeling relief. “Put me on speaker, please, Hamilton,” she said, with one hand on her hip as she tilted her foot up in her heels.
“Go ahead, Jaime,” he said.
Her Pleasure Page 21